Russian Roulette
by SerialStoryLover
Summary: "Mac never refuses Will, because she's always afraid it's going to be the last time." There are 6 shots in a .38 revolver...
1. Round 1

_**Because Lilacmermaid33 asked. And I can never refuse. Not like Mackenzie here, however. We don't have that kind of relationship.**_

_**Six chapters in one go. You're welcome. I originally told Lilacmermaid this was a one-shot. Oops. It's technically one story that my sporadic OCD thinks will look neater in separate chapters.**_

_**Mac never refuses Will, because she's always afraid it's going to be the last time.**_

_**AU. Or maybe Sorkin just never put these bits in…he is a frustrating, teasing bastard. But a brilliant one.**_

_There are 6 shots in a .38 revolver…_

* * *

**Round 1)**

It's been two months since she re-teamed with Will at ACN and it's the first time he's joined them at Hang Chews when she's been there.

For the first couple of hours they have a laugh with the rest of the team and occasionally exchange amused glances with each other at the youth and naivety of the team they've cultivated for their new show. There have been a few bumps and screw ups since the disastrous SB 1070 show, but both of them feel that they're on the right track with a good engine.

It's her round and maybe her fourth drink…or is it her fifth? She's pretty sure that Jim dropped a shot of tequila in front of her not too long ago. Maybe she was imagining it…Jim did that a lot.

"Told you they were young." Twisting around, she sees Will leaning lazily on the bar beside her, a relaxed smile on his face. She doesn't think she's seen him this chilled since they were together.

"Idealism's not a sin."

"Yeah, but its shit when you lose it." Her heart sank as the look left his face again, to be replaced by a more brooding, embittered expression. While he was looking the other way she picked his drink out from the selection she had.

"Here Will. You're not an old man yet. Even Charlie has more optimism than you right now." She smiled hopefully at him, and saw his flicker back into place.

"You and Charlie always have more optimism than I do." He replied.

* * *

Two hours later they were the last ones there, and they were very drunk.

"So are you glad you came here?"

She looked at him next to her, thoughtfully. "Are you glad I came?

"I asked first."

"That's a child's answer."

"So's answering a question with a question."

"No, that's a smart person's answer."

"It's a politician's answer." Mackenzie shivered.

"Ouch. Now who's pulling punches?"

Will downed the last of his scotch and put the glass heavily on the table. "We should probably go."

"Mmm."

"Mac?"

"Yeah?"

"I said we should probably go. They're closing up."

"Oh – yeah – right." She looked wildly around for where she had put her coat, until Will was dangling it in front of her. "Oh – thanks."

"You cannot be that drunk."

"You're one to talk! _And_, you had a nice big lunch with Charlie. Some of us don't get that."

"You were invited!"

"Yeah, but one of us actually has to, you know, run the show."

They bickered playfully as they stumbled out of the bar and tumbled out into the street in search of taxis. Will was trying and failing to hail one, when Mackenzie stumbled out on to the curb and threw out her hand. The taxi straight ahead of them turned in and she turned triumphantly to him, a sloppy, victorious grin on her face. He smiled at her softly.

"Anyone would be an idiot not to stop for you." He said it so gently, and with such a sober, curious expression on his face for someone she knew was completely off his face drunk, that she couldn't be entirely sure that she'd heard him. The best she could do was smile, awkwardly back.

"Look, I won't leave you stranded. We can share. You still live in the same place, right? We can drop you off."

He shook his head as they got into the taxi. "No, your place first."

"And who said chivalry was dead?" She teased, before she gave the driver her address.

They didn't really talk in the cab. Mackenzie wasn't sure why – maybe it was just because someone else was in the car with them. But when they arrived at her place, she was surprised to find Will getting out with her.

"Will, the whole point was for you not to have to hail another cab, remember?"

"I'm just walking you to your door. Man, can you wait a couple of minutes? Thanks."

"He'll just stick the fare up." Mac muttered as Will followed her into her apartment building and into the elevator.

He didn't reply for a moment, but when he did, it wasn't what she was expecting. "You didn't answer my question."

"Hmm?" She looked at him, confused. "What question?"

"Are you glad you came here?"

The elevator pinged and Mac's look of confusion was cut short as she moved out into the corridor.

"I – yes, of course. How could I not be? We're doing the show we always dreamed of, and we have a great crew, and Charlie and –" She had reached her door and turned to look at him as she fumbled blindly in her bag for her keys, "And you and I make a good team."

"We make a _great_ team." He corrected softly, managing to smile a little. She returned it before distractedly turning her attention to her key-hunt.

"And you? Are you glad I came back?"

She wasn't even fully aware of herself saying it. She later thought that maybe some memory-driven part of her brain had taken control over the drunk remainder of it which was torn between looking for her keys and trying not to fall over as she did so.

"I missed you." She vaguely registered what he had said, but only looked up at him when she felt his hand reach into her coat pocket, and pull out a set of keys.

"How did you –?"

"They've been jangling away in there since we were walking from the taxi." She looked at them incredulously for a second before shaking her head and laughing as she took them from him with a smile. Slipping them into the lock, she turned to face him again,

"Thanks for walking me up, Will."

"Not at all." He said softly; and just as she tentatively leaned forward to place a kiss on his cheek, he understood her intention, and drunkenly – she presumed – pressed his lips to hers instead, and although Mac's cloudy brain instantly saw this as a bad idea, Will seemed to get very passionate very quickly; and a pessimistic, timid voice in her head asked, _what if you never get to do this again? He's kissing you, stop complaining!_ And that was when she gave in.

Gently - not over doing it - she placed a hand on his cheek, and kissed him back, obliging without much resistance when his tongue pressed against her mouth asking for permission.

The warmth of him, and the familiar hands at her back and waist made everything come flooding back, and more than ever she realized what a complete imbecile she had been to ever risk losing what they had had. She could feel her eyes stinging and tears threatening to spill over, but she forced herself to keep kissing him; not to waste a second. It was like he thought she was the Mackenzie from three years ago – you would not have been able to see a difference in him. Completely unlike her first week at ACN.

A car horn beeped outside, and she sprang back from him, trying not to let any tears fall whilst he was still looking at her. She forced a smile on her face.

"The taxi – Will!"

"Taxi?"

"Yeah, the taxi. How we came here? It's waiting for you?"

"Oh. Yeah. Right, I forgot."

"Yeah, I figured." She smiled sadly. He was so not going to remember this in the morning. She could practically sense _her_ hangover coming at her right now, and he had had a few more drinks than she had.

"I mean it Kenz. I'm glad you're back." He smiled, dopily, and she returned it.

"I know."

He briefly kissed her cheek and then turned to head back to the taxi.

"Will?" He turned back, looking expectantly at her. "The corridor to the elevator's the one on the right."

He looked at her confused for a moment, and then looked down the one he was in, and down the way she was pointing. Shooting a sheepish look at her he turned around and headed down that way. She looked after him helplessly and heard the elevator ping seconds later.

Heavily, she turned and let herself into the apartment, turning and leaning against the door as soon as it was shut, trying to process what had just happened.

She knew that her and Will's relationship was fragile. She doubted she had many chances to show him that she had changed, and that she felt it had been the worst mistake of her life. She had no idea if she had blindly thrown one away just then...

It was like a damned game of Russian roulette; except she wasn't gambling her life, she was gambling her love. Or his love, she supposed.

She knew that if it never happened again, she'd regret that the last kiss they'd shared was the result of drunken confusion. But at the same time, she felt slightly grateful to whatever force existed out there that she had gotten another chance to kiss him at all.

Damn it had felt good. She knew she would go to sleep with it playing on a constant loop behind her eyelids.

* * *

There was an upside, she decided the next morning.

At least since he couldn't remember it there was no awkwardness between them. Well, as they had discovered three years ago, she knew how to lie about a relationship.

God.

How many more chances would she get before the empty casings ran out and that bullet was coming to end her and Will's hopes forever?

* * *

_**Okay…not actually sure I like this bit. It was the last one finished, strangely. Still, I like the rest :p**_

_**So this was written start to finish in about four hours straight, ending now, so apologies for any spelling mistakes and what have you. I did try and edit it. But it's late.**_

_**I'm now aiming to have twenty fics written by the time I'm twenty. The annoying thing is, at this rate I may surpass this long before then. I don't know why this seems to matter to me…I think I need to sleep.**_

_**Anyway, hope you enjoyed. As always, I'd love to hear what you think. Cheers, you lovely bunch x**_


	2. Round 2

**Round 2)**

They had fucked up. Massively.

Three guests had cancelled, the sound had been out of sync and Will had utterly lost his temper with a congressman on national TV, ultimately swearing live on air.

They were sitting at opposite ends of Hang Chews with none of their staffers willing to go anywhere near either of them. Will's slumped over the bar, and she's sitting in a secluded corner with Charlie resolutely silent beside her to keep her company.

She's fuming at Will, and Charlie's insisted to her that he's furious at himself for letting her down when she already had so much to deal with. She really doesn't care right now.

She's not sure how much time has passed when Charlie twists around and looks in Will's direction. She's staring into her depressingly empty cocktail glass – her fifth or her sixth, she's not sure. Somewhere in the back of her drunken mind she registers that this must mean it's quite late.

Out of the corner of her eye and partly through the mirror opposite him, she sees Charlie stand up, pull his jacket on and jerk his head at her to Will. He turns back and mutters something in her ear, before kissing her head and moving over to Will.

She must be really drunk if he thinks she can't hear what he tells Will.

"For God's sake make sure she gets home okay."

He doesn't give Will a chance to reply, just shakes his head with a sigh of frustration, and heads for the door leaving a tip on the side.

Taking a breath he slowly walks over to her, sinking into Charlie's vacated chair. "Don't even say anything Billy."

He opens his mouth to retort and then sees the utter exhaustion on his face and swiftly closes it again. They sit in silence for a few moments as the bar slowly begins to close up around them. Eventually, Will pulls at her hand to tug her upwards. She jerks back almost violently from him.

"Mackenzie!" he says sharply. Her head snaps up at his tone of voice, and she can feel tears fill her eyes. She knows it's probably just a mixture of stress and exhaustion, and probably some anger towards him - but whenever she cries these days, she always feels like the cause can he traced back to Will. And now she's doing it in front of him. Great. She catches the softening expression on his face as he sighs, exasperated with himself, before she looks down and hides her eyes in her hands.

This time she's too weak to resist when his hands gently enclose around her wrists and he tugs her upwards. She lets him do it even though she wants to just be pissed off at him, and for him to know it. But part of her also longs for him. The part of her that knows that she's always been at her calmest and her happiest in his arms; the part that's convinced that she only has so many more chances to convince him that they can work this out – that managing to straighten their relationship out is what she wants more than anything. But she hates feeling like she's in a game of Russian roulette where only Will knows how many bullets are in the revolver.

Still, this means she'll take what she can get, however pathetic that might make her. And as she stumbles drunkenly into his embrace she forgets everything else and breathes him in, pressing into his warmth and that feeling of safety that she's missed these last three years.

She lets him gently massage her back and run his fingers through her hair, silently accepting the apologies that he's whispering into her ear. She knows he does genuinely mean it. Not just because he's telling her, but because she knows Charlie wouldn't lie to her.

Obeying Charlie's orders, Will helps her with her coat and slips his arm around her to keep her (and him, if truth be told) upright as they leave the bar. The air is quite chilly for an early August evening and when she starts to shiver, he rubs warmth into her arms, keeping her close as he tries to hail a cab.

They share a taxi silently except for when they get to her place and he asks her to text him when she's safely in her apartment. She nods, staring at her shoes and moves towards the door before she feels Will's hand on her waist pulling her back, until feels his nose press into her hair.

"It won't happen again Mac. I promise. I'm sorry." And he presses a soft kiss onto the crown of her head. She closes her eyes, glad that he can't see her face.

But she also can't help thinking about a similar situation they were in a couple of months ago, and how a sad part of her is regretting that there was no drunken kiss this time. God, she just wanted him back. She gets out before she says or does something stupid, knowing that there will be a hurt expression on his face.

She knows that he was talking about the show but just the way he said it reminds her of them. Sometimes, like then (when they're drunk, basically) she feels like there's hope. And she wonders if she should really be going on this date with Wade tomorrow.

She decides not to tell Will about him just yet, until she knows her feelings a little more clearly.

Two months later he starts having a different girl waiting for him every evening after a show and she thinks she made the right choice. She thinks the last round was her round. She's out of the game.

* * *

_**I actually had to delete stuff so that would let me upload this :p Wow, I have clearly done so little school work this term. **_

_**Hope you enjoyed :)**_


	3. Round 3

**Round 3)**

It's late and they've finally sent everyone home around midnight. There's a lot to get done before the State of the Union, and she and Will have made the executive decision to stay behind and pick up some of the work.

Moving into the staff common area, with its sofas and seven different TV's, each with different news stations, they settle down into opposite ends of the most comfortable sofa and set to work; occasionally making an observation about one topic or another to each other and going on coffee trips.

She was supposed to have been going over to Wade's after work for a late dinner, and, if she was honest, probably sex. But Will asked her to stay and she tried to convince herself that it was purely for professional reasons – they were the bosses. They had to take the fall sometimes; had to set an example.

She had texted Wade that it was a hectic week for work and they had too much to do, that they wouldn't be able to spend time together that night. But she'd smiled when Will had poked his head round her door to tell her that they were ordering Chinese.

At three, Will fell asleep opposite her and she found herself watching him, breathless, with a smile on her face. She'd never thought that she'd get to just watch him sleep again. They'd stretched out and their legs were almost touching, just millimeters apart. And that was how she fell asleep about ten minutes later.

Neither of them said anything the next morning when they awoke to find their legs had pleated and that Will's hand was gently holding Mackenzie's ankle, which was resting on his hip.

Since their little argument the day Gabby Giffords had been shot, Mackenzie had felt that maybe it wasn't quite over for them yet. Hardly any women had been seen around the Newsroom since then and Will was definitely making more of an effort to be relaxed and friendly towards her. She'd counted only three awkward "them" jibes in nearly two weeks. Definitely an improvement.

They hurriedly left the building, sleepy and not saying an awful lot. They didn't share a cab this time; but as their separate rides pulled up behind one another, she and Will shared an almost guilty, mischievous look, like two teenagers trying to sneak home before their parents realized they'd been out. They laughed and she nodded, saying she'd see him in a few hours.


	4. Round 4

**Round 4)**

She hates these dinners. They're basically evenings filled with false smiles, back room deals, disgustingly expensive alcohol and networking - or, as she likes to call it, sucking-up so that if you ever needed someone to annoy for a comment about something, you'd know exactly who to go to.

She knew Will hated them too, and with Charlie off reminiscing with an old friend who used to work with Cronkite, the two of them were seated at the bar having completed their ninety-minutes post-dinner ass-kissing, and were now sipping wine and brandy and bitching about the people in the room that they hated the most.

It was a rare, relaxed, happy moment for them, just laughing and she was loving every minute. She could see Lonny hovering a in a far corner and she waved him over to join them, but, ever the professional, he shook his head appreciatively and winked at her.

"Flirt." She heard Will mumble into his glass.

"Me or him?" She teased, her eyes sparkling, whether it was from the wine or it was just her being herself, wasn't entirely clear.

"Him!" Will said indignantly.

"You don't know that." Mac said, deliberately not looking at him, her lip curling, knowing she was annoying him. "Maybe I wanted him to come over so I could dance with him." She jerked her head over to where maybe eighty people filled the dance floor.

She chanced a look out of the corner of her eye and caught the miffed look on his face as he thought about what she'd said. She laughed, shaking her head at how gullible he could be after a few drinks.

He asked for another round, and they returned to their gossip session.

When she was nearly finished that glass of wine, she found herself laughing. "You know, TMI should hire us to be Mr. Chatterbox columnists. We'd be brilliant."

"Dance with me." Will said abruptly.

She nearly choked. "What?"

He looked at her rather seriously, which made her want to laugh even more, despite her surprise.

"You're serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be serious?" His brow furrowed. "Come on, let's dance.

"What? You'll dance with Lonny but not with me?"

"He could probably stand up right for longer than you right now. Why? Are you jealous?" She was just teasing…maybe even borderline flirting, but she saw a slightly darker look in his eyes that she hadn't seen there in a long time and she decided to just be honest. "Will…we're in a room full of people who know - TMI won't _need_ to hire us. We'd write ourselves."

"Come on, Mac. It's one dance. You know how many people dancing over there are colleagues?"

She stared into her wine glass, "Not colleagues with our history." She said quietly, before downing the last swig, closing her eyes as the cold liquid ran down her throat to soothe it. As she put her glass down she felt a hand slip into her free one, and she reluctantly met Will's eyes, looking hopefully back at her.

"Please. One dance?"

The image of the pistol flashed in front of her eyes again. But then so did many other memories of the two of them dancing on a beach in the Seychelles, a balcony in Paris, in his apartment one night after a great dinner.

There's not always a next time.

She couldn't refuse him.

She hopped off the bar stool and offered a small smile, at which he beamed back.

As she tried to stop herself from leaning too closely into Will, or looking like she was too lost in her partner in a room full of reporters, she wondered if there was still a bullet somewhere in her metaphorical revolver – and more importantly: if so, where the hell her life was going.


	5. Round 5

**Round 5)**

She doesn't think it's a great idea for him to be out drinking with them again after he's already had alcohol mixed with vicodin and two cookies, but who the hell is she to stop anyone from celebrating tonight? And more than that, he had definitely not let her down. As exasperated as she felt about the fact that he managed it whilst ten feet high off the ground, she was incredibly proud of the way he'd done the show that night.

She knew they'd made history. In years to come, the footage from this day would be shown on the same reels as the Moon Landing, Watergate, Vietnam, the fall of the Berlin Wall, 9/11, obviously, and the first Black President at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. And they had done it well. More than well. They had been worthy of the occasion and the respect it deserved for everyone, particularly in their city, who had been watching them.

The only one missing is Neal. He's taken Kaylee home for a quieter night. Everyone else is gathered in Hang Chews, happy, drinking and continuing the party they had started in Will's apartment. There's a slight pinch of salt that comes this time though. Every so often one of them will suddenly remember exactly why they're celebrating and they'll take a moment. But then they'll realise that they're allowed to celebrate this. Particularly because they're sitting forty blocks away from Ground Zero.

They can hear the massive crowds a couple of blocks away in Times Square and its only adding to the atmosphere.

At around half twelve, Will surprises her at the bar by coming and telling her that he thinks he should call it a night. As she recovers from her surprise, she gently squeezes his forearm and leans in so that he can hear her over the noise,

"I think that's a good idea. Is Lonny around?" Will nods, and he tugs her over to the front door, waving to the staffers as he passes. Lonny is waiting on the other side of the door, and says hello when he sees her.

She's confused as to why he's brought her here though. "You wanted to speak to me?"

He turns to look at her, taking hand in his, "I'm really sorry I was high, Kenz. I –"

She shakes her head. She was calmer about it now that they'd survived it. "Don't worry about it. You –"

"I can't hear you properly!" He says loudly over the noise coming from the bars of merrymakers around them. She laughs slightly, leaning forward again.

"I said, it's fine. If you'd fucked it up I'd be pissed, but…" She looks him straight in the eyes, "You were brilliant tonight. Absolutely brilliant. And it's incredibly unfair of you to be able to do that when you're high, but…I'm really proud of you."

He was beaming back at her, and it made her melt; although she could see from his pupils that the drugs were still in his system, probably being kept alive a little longer by the alcohol. But she decides that she should probably let Lonny take him home. She opens her mouth to bade him goodnight, but he starts talking first.

"Couldn't have done it with anyone else on the other end of the headset."

He murmurs it, and she can't tell whether he was just saying it because he was high and his emotions were running even higher, or whether it was totally genuine. Given the circumstances she's swaying towards the former. But before she can dissect this any further, her instincts snap into focus as she catches sight of the look in his eye. She can see what he's thinking, and before she can open her mouth to stop him, he's leaning in, and her half-hearted pressure on his hand does nothing to stop his lips latching onto hers.

For a drunken, inebriated kiss, it wasn't rough or rushed. It was surprisingly slow and gentle. She couldn't help herself – she melted in seconds and found herself leaning into him, hand coming to rest on his chest.

When he pulled away, there was a happy – dare she say it, hopeful, - look in his eyes as he squeezed her hand and walked over to a dubious looking Lonny.

She didn't know whether she wanted to jump in the air or cry. She was fairly sure – ninety-nine per cent certain – that had he not been high, then that would never have happened. They had now shared two kisses that he would probably never remember.

She caught Lonny looking at her worriedly. He gave a small jerk of his head asking if she was okay, and she tried to look as though she found it funny or amusing. She could tell he didn't buy it, so she simply waved goodbye and turned to go back through the glass door, her eyes burning. Only, when she looked up, it was to find an equally concerned-looking Charlie Skinner staring at her. She stopped dead, foolishly wondering whether to just go back out the door and leave, before she remembered that her purse and jacket were still over with the staffers.

She closed her eyes wearily before wandering heavily past him over to the bar, sitting down and ordering another cocktail. She wasn't surprised when Charlie took the seat next to her and put a gentle arm around her.

"Mac –" He began. But she just raised her index finger and shook her head as the drink was placed before her and she took a sip; no, a gulp. As the alcohol burned down her throat she felt braver. But sadder too.

"Second time he's done that." She said quietly – to herself, more than to Charlie. And then she realised that she's said it aloud and quickly looks at him, finding a half-pitying, half-horrified expression on his face. She scrambles to get his attention back. "No. Charlie – you – you _can't_ tell him. He's high, he's not going to remember it – it's not –"

"Mackenzie!" He grabbed both her shoulders and she quickly shut up, her eyes still feeling watery. He nodded at the barmaid for a drink for himself and sighed. "Maybe he won't remember, and maybe he wasn't completely knowledgeable about his actions – though I dispute that part – but he's not the one sitting crying and drowning his sorrows here."

She bit her lip, knowing he was right, and trying not to cry more. She shook her head, trying to organise her thoughts, and took another sip of her drink.

"Maybe." She cleared her throat. "But what was he like after I left?"

She looked at him knowingly, and her suspicions were confirmed when, surprised at her comeback, he opened his mouth to argue back, and then found that he had to close it again. Taking a sip of his own drink, he looked at her again for a moment and then pulled her closer to him, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"You know, it's an old phrase Ms. McHale, but two wrongs don't make a right. Letting Will get away with continuously hurting you in return, won't fix this. And it _can_ be fixed Mac, you have to keep believing that."

Charlie bought her another drink after that before leading her over to Jim and the others, who quickly cheered her up again; and a few drinks later she was feeling far more optimistic...though more drunk, admittedly.

Two weeks later, Will was behaving very distantly towards her and she thought she knew why.

A month later, and Brian Brenner was back in her life.

Was it too cliché to say that her fate had been sealed with a kiss?

* * *

_But I have to tell you – I mean, after tonight I really want to tell you…I've never stopped –_

* * *

**_:(_**

**_Bit worried the Roulette metaphor is starting to flop. Hope not. That would be sad. Sleepy :o_**


	6. Round 6

**Round 6)**

It was the day before thanksgiving, and the team were staying an extra hour, preparing to pre-tape the show tomorrow morning so that everyone could be with their families by the afternoon.

Mackenzie stuck her head around Will's door and he smiled when he saw who it was.

"Nice ad lib on the Egyptian elections." He nodded approvingly getting up and walking around the desk to lean against it so he could face her as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

She smiled at the compliment, her cheeks gaining a little colour - as they did more and more these days.

After the whole Brian fiasco, she had thought that maybe she did need to finally bite the bullet and accept that she and Will were doomed and that she needed to move on with her life. But then there had been Will's overdose and the revelation of the mysterious voicemail; and she had finally come to the conclusion that Charlie had been right. This _could_ be fixed. There _was_ no gun with a bullet with her name on it. Will would never put a either a gun or a bullet anywhere near any part her, be they metaphorical or otherwise.

As soon as she had realised what the voicemail must have said, she realised that idealism really _wasn't_ a sin; and that she really needed to just have more faith in _them_. And since then, things had been getting a lot better now that they both "unofficially" knew where they stood. She could tell that Will knew that she knew exactly what he had said in the voicemail; and as opposed to a gun waiting to go off, it was more like an hourglass, with the sand slowly draining away until there was nothing left but them.

She didn't realise that she seemed to have switched off, and was brought back to the present by Will waving a hand in front of her, a concerned look on his face.

"You okay? What's up?"

She shook her head to clear it, and then remembered what she was here to do, which instantly put a smile – albeit a nervous one – back on her face.

"We've had a request. For an appearance from you." Will raised his eyebrows, curiously. Mackenzie was never usually this cagey with him when they were talking about the show.

"Yes…?" Will said slowly, eyeing her with a mixture of bemusement and intrigue. "From whom?"

He enunciated the last word because he knew she would pick him up on it; and he was pleased when she smiled wryly at his little joke. But her expression quickly turned mischievous again and his brow furrowed.

"From my parents." She said it quickly, before biting her lip and holiding her hands up to show that she didn't want him to say anything yet. "They asked me what you were doing for Thanksgiving, and – well, I figured you weren't planning on doing anything – you would have said if you were taking a trip to Nebraska, which I figured you wouldn't be doing anyway, because, well..."

She was warbling, and she realised it. To her relief, Will was smiling because he'd realised it too. She stopped nervously, but he merely shook his head smiling, and gestured for her to continue.

"So, I said you weren't doing anything, and they insisted that I invite you – they didn't want you spending Thanksgiving on your own; and…" She paused, looking up at him, a more tentative smile in place, suddenly more nervous, "And _I'd_ really like it if you were there too."

She could tell that she had got him with that part. He stared at her, slightly dumbstruck for a moment, before looking down at his shoes, seemingly trying to unstick his throat.

Tilting her head to one side, she walked forward so that she was standing right in front of him, and squeezed his shoulder before trailing her hand gently down his arm, tugging his left hand out his pocket and tentatively entwining it with hers.

He still hadn't looked up, and she gently rested her forehead against his.

"Come on, Billy." She said quietly, trying to coax a response out of him. "I'm not asking for your hand in marriage, I'm asking for you to come and have dinner with my parents. They miss you. They're really pissed off that I've gotten to spend so much time with you the past eighteen months and they've not seen you at all - and they only live in Long Island."

He laughed at that, and she smiled, encouraged. "And Katie and Matt will be there too. He'll watch the game with you and Dad. Come on, it'll be fun! You'll be miserable sitting in your apartment all on your own drinking beer and eating take out. Just –"

He suddenly looked up, and in an instant their faces were millimetres apart and Will was looking straight into her eyes, a soft smile on his face.

"Mackenzie, stop. You don't have to convince me. I was going to say yes as soon as you asked."

"You were?" Mackenzie said in a small, doubtful voice. Will's smile widened as he chuckled slightly.

"Yes. I'd love to see your parents again. And Katie and Matt." He gently tucked a hair behind her ear and cupped her face in the hand that wasn't holding hers. Her breath seemed to stop. She hadn't been expecting this. "The only reason I didn't say anything straight away, is because I was really kind of hoping that the next time I met your parents, you wouldn't be introducing me as your colleague or your friend."

Mackenzie swallowed, completely taken aback by his words.

She had been waiting for him to speak to her, sure, but not this soon; and definitely not this directly. Her heart was suddenly going at double the rate, and with the edge of his hand resting just on her pulse point, she was pretty sure he was aware of this. She couldn't not smile back at him.

"What are you doing tonight?" He smirked.

"Some crazy lady at work is making us all stay late so that we can come in early tomorrow." She pushed gently at the hand she was holding, and ended up being even closer to him than she had been a moment before. The hand in hers moved to her waist, and naturally she moved hers to curl around his shoulder. "Bit late for dinner, don't you think?"

"Billy we're in Manhattan – there's a bar on every corner. It's perfectly acceptable to have a drink on a first date."

"Except that when I get drunk with you in a bar I usually end up kissing you, not remembering, and just hurting you more." His smile turned slightly sad and he was looking so apologetic, his thumb caressing her cheek; and now it was her turn to be struck dumb by what _he_ had said. So he _did_ remember? And he'd never said anything? All this time? It was like he could read her thoughts, and he shook his head slightly pleadingly. It took her brain all of a moment to catch up before she realised: Charlie _had_ told him, then.

Her eyes closed in exasperation at that man's endless energy to put the two of them back together again. Humpty Dumpty had called the wrong guy. It seemed that Charlie Skinner could fix just about anything.

When she opened them again, it was to find Will staring at her, a look she knew in his eyes and she swallowed, taking a breath, before her mischievous smile that she knew he loved crept across her face once more.

"Well, there's an obvious solution to that. You could just kiss me when you're sober."

"You just said we're going for a drink."

"Right."

"Right."

He closed the small place between them and the arm around her waist pulled her flush against him. Instantly, her other arm joined the first in wrapping itself around his shoulders.

His hand tangled in her hair and he opened his mouth as soon as he felt her tongue run deliciously along his bottom lip. She sighed happily into his mouth as soon as she felt his lips smile against hers, and began to run her fingers through his hair, trying to press herself impossibly closer.

They were so wrapped in their embrace that neither noticed Charlie come in and stop in his tracks as soon as he saw them. They didn't see the broad smile that spread quickly across his face, and they didn't hear the soft laugh as he saw the two people he felt were an adoptive son and daughter finally fix each other. They didn't see him quickly back out and put his arm around Jim, starting up a conversation and steering him carefully away before he barged in on them.

All they saw when they finally broke apart, was their flushed, breathless, but smiling faces; and they laughed nervously as Will rested both hands on her waist, holding her comfortably in his arms. Hers moved to his chest, and she simply beamed at him for a moment, before clearing her throat and fiddling with his collar.

"Not that I'm saying you shouldn't kiss me when you're drunk. That's perfectly fine too. Anytime's good, really." Her eyes crinkled in a smile, and she knew she must look like a bit of an idiot; but she felt insanely happy. Her only comfort was that she thought Will's expression must be similar to hers, so at least they looked stupid together.

He reached up and gently took the hands on his chest in his own. "It's okay _now_." He gave her a meaningful look, and she knew he was apologising; but this was a new, clean slate for them, and she wasn't having it. She shook her head and pressed a kiss to his forehead, putting the smile back on his face.

"So," He said, playing with her fingers. "What will you be introducing me as?"

His voice was so hopeful that she let out a little laugh, and then fixed her features into a mock-seriously thoughtful expression. "Well, there is a part of me that is very intrigued to see my mother's expression if we turn up and I introduce you as my boyfriend. But…I don't know if that's acceptable after one date."

"You're not supposed to have kissed on the first date either." He leaned forward and pressed another gentle kiss on her lips. She giggled, and beamed back at him. "New relationship, new rules. Sound familiar?"

He paused for a moment, apparently completely lost in thought. Mackenzie frowned, and tilted his head up with her finger. He stared at her for a moment, apparently trying to make a choice.

"Will, what is it?"

He squeezed her hands in both of his and looked down to where they were joined, apparently nervous.

"What about fiancé?"

He winced at the completely shocked expression, on her face. "Too soon?" He let go of her hands and walked over to the window running his hands through his hair, before turning back to her, seeing that she was still standing completely still.

"Look, Mac, I'm not trying to jump the gun or – or rush into things. Although, I guess maybe I am. But I'm not saying we'd have to set a date and start planning a wedding – you don't even have to wear that ring if you don't want to. I just want you to know…that that's where I am with you.

"I feel like an idiot to have kept you waiting all this time whilst I sorted my own shit out, and hurting you in the process – especially since the overdose. I'm - sick of living without you when you're twenty feet away."

She seemed to be slowly regaining control of her limbs, and was looking at him with an unreadable expression on her face. He walked back over to her, gently taking her face in his hands, and he looked relieved when she didn't pull away.

"The voicemail said that I've never stopped loving you and that I wanted to try again." Her eyes widened and she could tell that he was worried he was overdoing it; but he was wrong, she was just transfixed – she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "I love you, Kenz. Always have. You can't think that that ring is meant for anyone else but you. It's yours if you want it, and so am I."

He stopped talking and she gathered that the ball was now in her court; and to her complete horror, she could not seem to speak.

She watched his face slowly fall as he seemed to realise that he had pushed too hard too fast. Dejectedly, and with frustration written across his face, he made to turn away from her, but her body finally kicked into action and she grabbed his arm before he could. His face snapped back to hers, hope screaming from every inch of it. Her lip curled, and she took a breath.

"Please, don't take this the wrong way," His face fell faster than a tonne of bricks, "But I'd rather we didn't start off Thanksgiving by causing both my parents, my sister and my brother-in-law to have heart attacks."

Hope flickered into life once more.

"So despite the fact that we are _definitely_ throwing the rulebook out the window, I suggest I stick to "boyfriend" tomorrow and we can just keep "fiancé" as our little secret for now?" She beamed at the massive smile that was spreading across his face, his arms once more slipping round her waist to pull her to him. "I'll marry you, Billy."

She just looked at the look of wonder on his face and then let out an exasperated laugh as she pressed herself into his chest.

"Of _course_ I'll marry you, you _idiot_!" This time he laughed too, pressing his face into her hair and tightening his hold around her, pulling her as close as was humanly possible. She found herself laughing too, and even a lone tear managed to wiggle its way out of a tearduct.

She pulled back slightly, and moulded her lips to his, winding her arms tighter around him and revelling in the wonderful insanity of the last ten minutes.

"I love you, Mac." She smiled against his lips, and pushed herself up on to her tiptoes, pressing another open-mouthed kiss to his lips before pulling back again, her eyes twinkling.

"I love you too. More than anything else in the world, I love you." He beamed.

"Don't let your Dad hear you saying that." She snorted.

"Are you kidding? He'd probably give me some sort of present…or maybe just a knock round the head." He laughed at the thoughtful expression that had come across her face.

"You know that's the first time you've ever said that?"

"Actually I said it the day I sent the email."

"Not in that exact order." He was grinning like an idiot, making her smile wider.

"No. And I'm sorry you had to wait so long to hear it. And I'm sorry for acting like a complete idiot before I realised –"

Will held a finger to her lips and shushed her. "_You_ wouldn't let me apologise. You're forgiven, Mac. We were both idiots. New relationship. None of that stuff matters now. We wasted enough time already, right?"

"Right." She said softly. "2.0?"

Will grinned back at her. "2.0"

She leaned up and kissed him once more – she could definitely get used to this. "We'd probably better get back out there."

"Okay." He said softly, apparently unable to stop beaming at her. She thought it suited him, and she ran a hand through his hair.

"Come on Billy."

He tugged on her fingers just as they left his grasp so that she would turn around.

"One more thing. The ring?" She looked thoughtfully at him, before her lips curled into another smile.

"Bit unsubtle to go out wearing now, Billy? Buuut...if you happen to have it on you later, you're walking me home."

"Oh yeah?" She bit her lip in her trademark smirk.

"Yeah."

"Okay."

She turned trying to look a little more normal, leaving her fiancé to follow her as she headed back out into the Newsroom. Wait. Normal?

Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.

* * *

_**This was Will's fault. He took this and ran. I just had to go with it. It's not my fault that Mackenzie is his soulmate and he's had an epiphany! He wanted to propose, and who was I to deprive him. **_

_**SO. This has been a whirlwind. I'm fairly sure we were travelling in time with some tenses in chapter 5, and I had to subdue my comma fettish a few times, but I hope y'all enjoyed it all the same :) Reviews are love! And you are a lovely bunch to write for!**_

_**P.S. having sadly never spent thanksgiving IN America (though I had my first, awesome Thanksgiving last year by way of my Bostonian friend) I have no idea what the deal for cable news is on Thanksgiving. So please excuse any artistic license which is nonsense to anyone who actually knows what they're talking about.**_


	7. Epilogue

Just been pointed out to me that I posted this on the wrong fanfic. Many many apologies for the confusion. I have the hangover from hell. Thank you to Alma76 for the heads up :)

**Russian Roulette: An epilogue…of sorts. The story of Will. Sorry Mac POV lovers. **

_**This was another suggestion from Lilacmermaid. **__**I also just want to thank everyone for the AMAZING response to this fic. Please know that every time I got a review from one of you the most massive idiot grin spread across my face because you were all so lovely and enjoyed it! Thanks for taking the time to say so – really made my day!**_

_**Also want to give a quick shout out to Erin. I can't reply to you because you're reviewing as a guest, but you sound like you haven't had Chinese take-out. I'm struggling with that. Do it. NOW! :p**_

* * *

Will lay in bed the next night with Mackenzie spooned in front of him. They hadn't done _it_ yet – they were in her parents' house the night after their second First Date; but neither of them had any problem with sleeping together. The night before they had ended up tipsily at Mac's flat after he had walked her home (again) and she'd silently pulled him into her bedroom and slipped her shoes off, before falling flat on the bed and curling up. He'd taken the hint, and had snuggled down beside her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist so that he could pull her against his chest and press a gentle kiss right below her jawbone under her ear. It was the best night's sleep he'd had in years.

Looking down at her now, he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face, and gently ran his fingers through her hair as she slept peacefully beside him.

He couldn't believe that he was here, with her beside him, after a long day with her – _their_ – family. When Charlie had came into his office, looking anxious and wringing his hands two weeks ago, he had never imagined that in such a short space of time he'd be spending Thanksgiving with his fiancé and her family.

It was, to throw out a cliché, too good to be true. Yet it had definitely happened.

* * *

**Two weeks earlier…**

They'd just finished the final rundown, and Will was licking his wounds in his office after he and Mackenzie had had a fairly heated disagreement in front of everyone about a segment on the upcoming republican primary debate. Mac wanted to take one of the congressmen to town, but Will – as always – wanted to focus all his energy on the Tea Party candidates.

He knew that Mac had a valid point about not just paying attention to the fringes – people were probably getting the message by now that he really didn't like the Tea Party; but for some reason that he couldn't give, he had fought her on it anyway. And he knew that he'd caused her stress that she didn't need, and since it was such a stupid, trivial argument in the first place, she was probably feeling confused and hurt because of it…

Habib had said just the day before that this, although not very pleasant for Mackenzie, was a sign that Will was ready to forgive her. He was just instinctually battling the point because he'd been convinced of it for so long.

But as of ten minutes ago, he knew that Habib had been wrong. When he saw the hurt and, well…exhausted look on her face, he knew then he had forgiven her. What was he even thinking? He'd forgiven her the day he'd realised that she'd never got the voicemail.

He'd seen the knowing look Charlie had on his face as he'd been telling Mac about it from his hospital bed. The smug son of a bitch had known then and had been sending him annoying unsubtle looks for the last three months. As a result of this he was unsurprised when Charlie shuffled into his office after the rundown.

He had been there to witness the whole thing, and Will couldn't help the knee-jerk shame that panged through his heart as he saw his friend and mentor come to reprimand him over his behaviour towards Mac.

"Charlie, I know I was out of line." He said softly before the older man had even had a chance to speak. Turning away from the window so that he could see Charlie properly, he caught Charlie's slight surprise, and the guilt seemed to weigh him down further still. "I don't know why, really; I just –"

"Will." He said sharply, and Will was now the one surprised – surprised at the uncertain, anxious expression that had appeared on Charlie's face. He clammed up, waiting for him to speak again. "I'm going to stop you there, because to be brutally frank with you, I'm sick of this. It's stupid."

Will's brow furrowed. He thought he knew what Charlie was talking about, but he wasn't a hundred per cent sure, and he didn't want to say anything in case they were on completely different pages. Charlie huffed impatiently.

"Come on. You know I'm talking about Mackenzie. About the way you treat her. I get that she broke your heart and that you need to time to get over it; but it's been over four fucking years Will. And she's been sorry since the day she got back – since before that, if you really want to know. At least one of us replied to her emails!"

It was like Charlie was verbally slapping him. He could feel the force of his words hit him like a physical blow. But he knew he deserved most of them. Was this how Mackenzie had felt for the last eighteen months whenever he'd ripped her one?

"You've treated her like shit. Especially for the first few months you didn't even seem to give her an ounce of credit for wearing her sincerity on her sleeve for everyone to see, but _now_…

"What did the voicemail say Will?"

Will's eyes bulged. He really hadn't been expecting Charlie to ask that. To be perfectly honest, he didn't think Charlie had a right to know. Charlie seemed to read the argument behind his eyes before he made it, and he held up a hand to stop him before he could even open his mouth.

"Don't bother. I'm not Mackenzie, Will, and I won't tell her what it says. You're going to do that. And I know you think that I have no right to know, but once I tell you what I'm about to – which Mackenzie will probably kill me for – I'll think you'll agree that I do."

Now Will was lost. He had absolutely no idea what Charlie was going to say. And it didn't sound good.

"Do you remember it?" He nodded numbly. "All of it?"

"Yeah." He didn't know when his throat had gotten so dry and raspy, but he suddenly felt incredibly nervous. Charlie didn't say anything, just looked at him pointedly.

Giving into the fact that Charlie wasn't going to let him leave this room (even to go on air, he suspected) until he confessed, he slumped back against his desk, and looked bashfully up at the older man.

"It said… 'Listen, I swear I'm not saying this because I'm high. If the answer is no, then just do me a favour and don't call me back or don't bring it up or anything But I have to tell you – I mean, after tonight I really want to tell you – that I've never stopped loving you Mac. Never -"

He paused, as he caught Charlie's expression, before swallowing his pride and forcing himself to finish the message.

"…how could I? You are The One. Its unbearable having you so close but not _with_ me. I don't want it to feel like this – to _be_ like this anymore. I love you, Mackenzie. I'll always love you. And I want to find a way to make this work…I hope you – I – just – please call me back if you feel the same."

There was complete silence after he finished his announcement, as Charlie apparently waited to be sure that that was the end. Will looked pleadingly, helplessly at him for a minute or so before the man, a sad look etched onto his face, crossed the office and took the seat in front of him.

"Do you remember why you particularly wanted to tell her that night?"

Will blinked at him, confused. "I – I don't think there was a particular reason. It was an emotional night. The party, and then the drugs and the meds, and then just – we got _Bin Laden_! And then she let me go on the air when we were in my office, even though she knew – God, I don't know Charlie, it just –"

"Well I think I do." He interjected pointedly. Will shut up immediately, completely blindsided.

"What do you mean?" Charlie looked at him hesitantly, as though unsure he should really be saying anything at all. "Charlie? What do you mean? All I remember – clearly, anyway – about that night was the broadcast. And a few bits of Mac and I in here, and then a couple of flashes of the bar, but –"

"You don't remember leaving?"

"No." Will said slowly, wondering where the hell this was going. Charlie sighed, taking out his handkerchief and running it over his face.

"You don't remember saying goodbye to Mackenzie?"

"Charlie what did I do?" He said swiftly, now very worried. He had a terrible habit of hurting Mac, and he was fairly sure that he can only have said something even more ridiculous to her when he was under the influence – or a few influences, really. But then…did that necessarily add up? After all, he knew he had confessed his undying love for her whilst high. A horrible idea crept into his mind and he watched Charlie warily.

"She told me not to say anything. She knew you wouldn't remember."

"Charlie, you have to tell me right now –"

"Damnit Will, you kissed her! Right at the door, right in front of Lonny - and I was heading over to say goodbye, so I saw everything." Will saw him look up to see his expression – a mixture of shock and horror. "And according to her, it wasn't the first time either. You've kissed her before."

"She never said anything to me." Will said hollowly.

"Well of course she wouldn't!" Charlie snapped impatiently, springing to his feet once more. "She was convinced that if she pushed you even slightly in the wrong direction then any hope of reconciliation was gone. You know that she'd been putting up with hell from you, but even you didn't realise how much. Do you know what drunken stunts like that must be doing to her, William?"

He knew exactly what they would be doing to Mackenzie. And he felt his eyes burning.

"Now," Charlie spun back around to face him and stopped pacing. "For reasons passing understanding, despite all of this, she's still hanging around waiting for you."

Charlie stopped speaking as he caught the expression on Will's face, and finally after a moment, his expression softened. Mackenzie had been right about Will being upset if he found out. His face at that moment was a testament to that. But he was convinced that this would knock some sense into the Anchor. And God knows these two needed that right now more than they needed to tread on eggshells around each other.

"Sort this out Will. She won't wait forever – however much she might want to. She human – there's only so much she can take." He twitched for a minute, as it he wanted to reach out and grasp Will's shoulder, or perhaps just give him a good whack round the ear. But he didn't He bounced on the balls of his feet for a moment, before nodding curtly – and seemingly to himself – before pushing himself out the door and leaving Will alone with his thoughts.

The first into his head was that he had kissed Mackenzie – apparently more than once – and had absolutely no memory of it. How was that possible? Surely – _surely_ he would remember it?

Memories of Mackenzie's mouth moulded to various parts of his body had always been rather vivid in his mind. In fact, so vivid that in the first months of their separation, seeing flashes of her – of them – behind his eyes was one of the most painful parts of the break-up. It was like flesh memories, or maybe having a phantom limb.

And…he was sad that he couldn't remember. Because he wanted to. He _wanted_ to feel her lips on his, her pressed into him.

In the last couple of months, there had been moments when his wish had nearly come true – apparently a few more than he was aware of; most notably after the RINO broadcast. God he had wanted to kiss her then. He just hadn't been prepared to deal with what that would mean for them…then. Now he knew he was ready. And apparently he had a lot of making up to do.

oooo

Two hours later, as they were making the final prep and getting ready to go into the studio, he could see that Mac was completely taken aback (to the point where she was leaning more towards being suspicious than gratified)at his complete change in demeanour. He had been cooperative, had completely taken over their investigation into the congressman that she had spotlighted; and had been nothing but the perfect gentleman.

Eventually he could tell that she was beginning to suspect why he was doing what he was doing, and it culminated in the two of him in his office, her rattling off last minute statistics to him as he quickly slung a tie around his neck.

"You're sure you've got all this? I can have Joey work it into a graphic?"

He shook his head reassuringly, "No, I've got it. Don't worry."

A strange expression flickered across her face. "I'm not." She said softly.

He stopped, his fingers entangled in the knot as he fixed on her face, trying to work out what she was thinking.

A confused but slightly nervous smile appeared on her face as she put the notepad down on the seat by his desk and walked over, gently prying his fingers off the tie and finishing the loop herself. He watched her raptly as she did this; the way her hair, tired from her running her hands through it all day, fell at just the right angle over her face so that in the contrast of its shadow, the two little specks of light in the middle of her eyes seemed as bright as stars. The way her face contorted into a look far too concentrated for someone just tying a neck tie; and the way her lips parted slightly, her tongue clearly tucked behind her teeth as she worked.

When she looked back up at his face, his eyes followed her like a puppy's gaze follows its owner around the room. That small, confused smile was back on her face and he suddenly realised that her hands were still resting gently against his collarbone. "What's going on here?"

She said it softly, a quiet pain and desperation just creeping out from the back of her throat. His throat went dry. It had been two hours since Charlie had told him. He was still processing everything in his head, and he kicked himself that he couldn't tell her what was going on yet…because she deserved to know – and she was already waiting for so much, he just wanted to kick himself for adding another mysterious item to the list.

Knowing she would see through it, but hoping that she would (yet again) give him the benefit of the doubt and let it pass for now, he gently took her wrists from his chest, gently rubbing circles into them with his thumbs and looking imploringly into her eyes.

"I'm sorry I was a jerk earlier. You deserved better." Before he could change his mind, or let his rational mind take over, he leaned forward and placed a very gentle, but lingering kiss on her cheek, pressing his lips into her skin slightly.

He heard her breath hitch slightly, and he sadly noticed that she stiffened before easing up after a couple of seconds. Giving her arms a quick squeeze, he dropped his hold on her, and quickly moved towards the door, but she had turned around and caught his fingertips in hers before he got away.

The confusion on her face was more pronounced than ever, and he tried to tell her without words that he wasn't trying to hurt her. She seemed to understand, and confusion gave way to acute frustration before she realised what she must look like, and dropped his hand, trying to force her face into a smile and put her professional mask back on.

Gathering up her notebook again, she followed him towards the door, but he put his hand out to stop her from opening it.

"Soon, okay? Just…just not yet." There was an almost pleading look in his eyes; he could feel it. A spark of something glinted in hers, but her mask seemed to be back on – probably to punish him a little for his actions today, he thought (usually she didn't bother with her mask around him). She just looked at him for a few seconds and then nodded, bottom lip caught in her teeth.

He opened the door for her, and together they stepped back to reality.

* * *

She stirred slightly, as the fingers tracing the threads of her hair skimmed across the sensitive spot just behind her ear, and she turned over, wriggling closer to the warmth of his body, and he laughed slightly, beaming at her in the dark, marvelling at her. It didn't stop his ministrations, however.

Her eyes flickered open sleepily, and she frowned up at him as she realised he was still awake.

"Why aren't you asleep, Billy?"

Instead of answering her, he leaned down on his propped up elbow, and caught her open mouth against his, revelling in the instant moan which vibrated through to the back of his own throat as her small, lithe hand found its way to curl against the bottom of his neck as she lazily moved her lips back against his. His free hand found its way to her hip which was bared at the bottom of her t-shirt where it met her shorts.

When he pulled back she pouted, clearly displeased that he had stopped, which made him laugh again and he ran his finger down the bridge of her nose.

"Just making up for the ones I missed." He smiled. Realising what he was talking about, she smiled in return, and tucked herself closer into his body, moulding to the shape of him. Her eyes glinted in the gloom and he could tell she was up to something.

"Well, I think I'll be the judge of when you've made up for them."

He was now massaging slow, gentle circles into the protrusion of her hip bone, knowing it was another very sensitive spot; and grinning when he watched her eyes close, the sleepy smile on her face widening.

He leaned in once more, opening her mouth with his and letting his tongue gently dance with hers, the warm weight of her against him making him feel like the world was finally right.

She slipped one foot between his, managing to press herself even closer, but it also meant Will had to pull back again, because her thigh was now resting between both of his and it was making him slightly uncomfortable. The mischievous twinkle in her eye told him that she was having no trouble remembering where they were and was fully aware of what she was doing.

"And how many, Ms McHale," He teased at her, trying not to let his discomfort show (though of course she saw right through it – and giggled! To which he tickled her, forcing her to relent), "How many months will it be before you decide I've made up for them?"

"Right now I really couldn't say." She quipped. He grinned and laughed, tucking her head under his chin, and allowing her to drape herself across him and holding her there as he finally leaned back against the pillows.

"Night Mackenzie."

"Love you, Will."

* * *

**[The End]**

_**Hope this fits in okay. If not, pretend it doesn't exist and love the first 6 parts :p**_

**_And now I need to get back to my other fics, guys! They're all really jealous of this one. It's been hogging my attention for the last three days. Dinners to go to, dance's to be had, therapists to see, ex-boyfriends to knock the stuffing out of...it all needs to be written. And soon, before I go mad._ **

**_Thank you for all your amazing love, again xx_**


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